FOR MY DEAR BROTHER, STEVEN "CROCK"

You lit up my life
From beginning to end.
You were more that my brother,
You were my best friend.

Sometimes we fussed,
But mostly not.
We always loved each other,
And that, we did alot.

Your eyes were blue
As blue as the sea;
Your skin was Irish fair,
You had Woodstock tattooed on your knee.

You had freckles on your nose and cheeks,
And ears that caught the draft;
As a boy you were more that chunky
And always working on some crazy craft.

You would swin in ice cold pool water
And claim to feel no pain;
You could swim until you turned purple,
Then you'd get ready and go again.

It seems like in the blink of an eye
You grew much taller than me;
But I still called you my baby brother,
My baby brother who was six foot three.

We always had a special bond,
We were the youngest, me and you.
Sometimes we'd say thing "below the belt"
But the way I felt in my heart, you knew.

You were such a country boy,
Overhauls, fish'n rods, Robert E. Lee upon your back;
Your Clemson cap with the fish hook on the bill
And oh the sound of Earl Scruggs and Lester Flat.

You could light up a room
With just your handsome grin;
To everyone who really knew my Bubba,
Well, they knew you as their friend.

When you were first learning to play,
I'd beg, "Take it to the pasture!"
Then years later you would pick and I would sing,
You had become the banjo master.

At the top of your nose
Behind that cumbersome roll;
Was a loving, caring gentleman,
Who had given Jesus Christ his soul.

I've missed you from the second
That you had to depart;
As long as I live and breathe on earth,
You too, will live here in my heart.

You see, God saw fit to take you home,
In glory to be with Him;
Just wait by the river, and know that I love you,
And one day, we'll be together again.

Sherry Crocker Foster
January 12, 2004

Our Last Words

My last words to you were "Don't get near the road"
And you assured me yes that you were safe by the tree,
The next sound I heard was so hard to believe,
I heard a loud thump and ran up to see,
I saw you lying there motionless and cold,
I wanted to pick you up for me to hold,
A car had hit you and ended your life,
The pain in my heart felt like a knife,
In the hospital I held you so very tight,
I pleaded and pleaded for you to fight,
I begged God not to take you, I begged you not to go,
When they said you were gone all I could think was "NO!
This cant be, she was only but nine,
We woke up that morning and everything was fine,
How could this be that my first born was gone,
I am deeply hurt and feel so alone,
Why did this happen, what did I do wrong,
In my arms is where you belong,
I wish everyday for you to walk through the door,
To say that I love you forever more,
I know in my heart you're in a better place,
I can just see that big beautiful smile upon your face,
Please know that I love you, and in my heart you'll always be,
And when God calls me home, your beautiful face is the first thing I want to see!!
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH KELSEY! YOU WILL ALWAYS
BE A PART OF ME. EVERY BREATH I TAKE I WILL
TAKE IT LOVING YOU AND MISSING YOU!

LOVE MAMA (MOMMY)
In Loving Memory
Kelsey Michelle Jean Gossett
3/17/1994---12/5/2003

DEAR DAUGHTER - "GOOD-BYE" 

You're in my heart forever
You're with me every day,
But I'd give anything to hold you,
If only I could have my way. 

This journey has been difficult
There's so much that I miss.
Your laughter, friendship, our long talks,
But most of all, your kiss. 

I never thought I could go on
Without you when you died,
And I tried to understand my guilt
As my pain began to ease inside.

Yes, I'm learning to live without you
I know that you'd want me to try.
I go to groups, and read my books
I take long walks, and cry. 

Then, I draw upon your love and feel
Your zest for life each day,
And find it comforting, knowing,
You'd want me to live my life that way. 

I know there'll never be a day
Where you're not close at heart,
That I'd wish that things were different
so we'd never be apart. 

For you truly were a gift to us
And in my heart you'll stay,
Forever, until we're together again
In the spirit world one day.

Debbie Landsman

DON'T WALK MY MILE  

Walk a mile in my... NO, pleae don't! 

Not a mile, no distance, in my shoes.

Don't feel this empty world around,

To walk my mile, you'd have to lose.

Words "Time to move on" over again,

The thoughtless, empty words spoke.

I'll shake them off, not speak my thought.

I'll listen with patience, since you don't know.

You cared enough to speak, to offer advice,

It's your good intentions, not the work, I'll hold.

My shoes worn out, forever walking the mile...

To spare you the pain, I'll continue alone.

 Nona Walser 05-07-01

By My Sister

Across from Heritage Elementary School—not exactly one of my favorite places to go but one of the more important places in my life—lies part of me in Coleman Cemetery.  Surrounded by strangers, my little sister, Jessica lies buried beneath the world, and a plate with her name on it.  There, I find many memories, oddly, feelings of enjoyment but more often, sufferings that just seem overwhelming.

I take a deep breath to prepare myself and I move towards her.  The wind blows, sending a chill down my spine, and then I see the colors on all the trees - greens, reds, browns, and oranges.  The signs of fall and winter bring forth memories spent getting ready for and celebrating Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  How Jessica always brought a kind of brightness to each holiday, the trick-or-treating at church, the decorating, and even the snowball fights we had after it snowed.  Each time spent with her that couldn’t have gotten any higher in emotion.  And now, many of those great holidays are now going to have a sense of loneliness to them all.

Then I blink.  I notice that I’m at the foot of Jessica’s grave and I squat down and run my fingers through the grass.  The grass takes me back to that one Saturday Jessica’s soccer team, the Northwest Vipers, over took the FPSC Comets four to zero.  Jessica played her position on defense so hard that day that her legs cramped for a couple of days afterward.  I remember her complaints and laughter when mom and I teased her about the irritating whining noises she made.  Hearing her in the back of my head made me laugh a little inside.  Jessica’s beginning in soccer came to an abrupt end.  Jessica loved soccer, and she had hopes of developing her talent and I now picture her playing the game with speed and grace in a land where she can’t be taken.

I hear the sound of music from a car on the nearby road.  It’s not just any music. It’s the most excruciatingly painful sound in the world, country.  I picture my little sister a few years ago riding in her daddy’s dark blue pick-up truck, both of them with expressions of happiness and love on their faces.  They both sing “The Watermelon Crawl” at the top of their lungs with enthusiasm and joy.  The sound from the car also reminds me of the song, “Talking to My Angel” by Melissa Etheridge.  Jessica listened to every night while she slept.  That song that once played at her daddy’s funeral gave her comfort to know that one day she would see him again.

The feel of my eyes watering reminds me that I have to be strong, not only for myself but also for everyone else.  Seeing everyone mourning over Jessica’s death the day of the visitation and the funeral made me feel like the only one comforting others while I stood less than five feet from Jessica lying in her blue coffin surrounded by flowers, friends, and family.  Her face, covered in make up, was being looked down on by so many, mainly my mother.  With her watery eyes, her tears made me think to myself that Jessica wouldn’t want her feeling sad like this.  Jessica would want everyone to know that where she waits on us, there is always peace.

I stand up, getting a little lightheaded from the quick movement.  I look up at the clouds and watch them spread apart, letting the sun shine through, and I get a feeling that God is looking down.  God is looking down on everyone on this earth.  He reminds me that Earth is just a test of our strength, and life can be taken just as easily as it can be given, and that we all lie in the palm of his hand.

As I walk away from her, I look back and think; I think of how this grave, my sister’s grave, can bring up so many past times and how I’ve learned from all of them. It shows me to cherish each moment and to know life is but a vapor; just too short to waste.

Justin Huth   10/30/03

As Long As You Remember Me   

Today, my friend’s, I leave you all behind

Yet fear not, for I am still with you.   

If you stop for just a moment you will hear me!

I’ll be the sound of the wind, as it blows through the sky,

I’ll be the memory in your mind, so you need not ask why.  

I’ll be the sound of the waves, as they crash along the shore,

I’ll be the bird’s in the tree’s, whenever you step out the door.

I’ll be the blossom’s you see as they sprout up in the spring,

I’ll be the sound of the churchbells, just stop and hear me sing.  

I’ll be the light from a candle, as it flickers in the night,

I’ll be both sunrises and sunsets, for they’re both beautiful sights.

I’ll be the laughter you feel, and the tears when you cry,

But do me one favor and don’t ever ask why?

For why is a word that we can not explain.

And all the why’s in the world, won’t get rid of our pain.

So do me another favor, for it seems favors are all I ask.

Yet this one can be accomplished for it is not a hard task.  

Remember me in Happiness, Remember me not in Sorrow.

Then look ahead past the pain and know there is always tomorrow.

For as I enter into Heaven, upon leaving this Earth,

I leave to all of you my memories, and all that they are worth.   

This poem was written in memory of a young man named Eric, who died too soon, by his friends after his death.

A Poem from the Heart  

Let no man say they are gone, although physically absent, for they remain with us forever.
They live on in us and are as much a part of our lives as any living child.
They became a part of us the moment we knew a child was to be born.
And every day thereafter they have been an influence on our lives.
Their suffering has been our suffering and their joys have been our joys.
The smiles they wore are still undimmed and their goodness bright as gold, not dulled by time or distance but forever filling our hearts and minds.
We are so much richer for having been blessed with their lives for whatever time we had together.
We are strengthened through their having endured the hardships accompanying their illness with such valor.
They are with their Lord now and yet are not gone from us.
Their lives are our lives and while we live they shall continue to live, safe and secure within our hearts,
urging us on when we falter, and laughing with us when the world shines round about.
No, they are not gone. They live within.  

 Alice Longwell       

Humor For the Day  

One Saturday morning a man came to our door.
He introduced himself as he stared at the floor.

He said he had news that was not easy to share
So we’d better go in and get out of the air.  

Once inside, I noticed his hand had a slight shake.
It looked like whatever this news was, it made his heart ache.

The news that he brought was what all parents dread,
It was that, of our two sons, the youngest was dead.

At first we just sat there in stunned disbelief,
Unable to breath or even think about grief.

Our hearts were broken; never again to be the same.
For into our lives had come a sorrowful rain.  

Humor was now a thing of the past.
Something this hurt was sure to outlast.  

The Proverb says, “A merry heart doeth good…”
But we couldn’t imagine how anything could.

Oh time did move on, but at a very slow pace,
But soon, memories of our son began to take his place.

Now some of those memories were happy ones, for sure.
And remembering them seemed to act as a cure.  

So could it be that the Proverb is true?
That a merry heart really is good for you?

We remember a boy with a smile on his face,
A smile that no one could ever replace.  

 Now I hope you have heard every word I have spoken,
And not taken them lightly, as some sort of token.

For truer words I have never expressed,
As this myth against humor I now put to rest.  

So, please listen now, as I have something to say,
Without a little humor, we’d not make it through the day.